


That’ll Do

by HaleHole (SweetFanfics)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M, Pre-Slash, Sleeping Together, uncomfortable sleeping positions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-23
Updated: 2014-04-23
Packaged: 2018-01-20 13:52:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1512890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/HaleHole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As he sneaks into Derek’s loft, Stiles reassures himself that he’s actually following the werewolf’s rules because this is an emergency therefore it’s okay for him to come in unannounced. And no this is in no way, shape or form connected to his solemn oath to get back at Derek for the time he had snuck into his room and nearly given Stiles a minor heart attack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That’ll Do

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [](http://mydearsourwolf.tumblr.com/post/56537272641)

As he sneaks into Derek’s loft, Stiles reassures himself that he’s actually following the werewolf’s rules because this  _is_ an emergency therefore it’s okay for him to come in unannounced. And no this is in no way, shape or form connected to his solemn oath to get back at Derek for the time he had snuck into his room and nearly given Stiles a minor heart attack. One of these days Stiles is  _totally_ going to sneak up on Derek and scare him,  _mark his words_.  
  


Anyways.

 

Stiles skids over to the fridge, sincerely hoping that Derek’s gone grocery shopping 'cause he’s got a serious craving for a long glass of cool milk but they’re out at home and Stiles is in  _no_ mood to go grocery shopping himself. Therefore his milk-thirst-craving emergency and the raiding of Derek’s fridge on his way back home from school.  
  


Pulling the door open, Stiles makes a happy noise when he spies the milk bottle tucked away next to… wow, why hasn’t Derek thrown away that box of orange juice already? Stiles has seen that thing sitting there for at least three weeks now. Ah whatever. Not his fridge, not his problem. Picking the milk bottle up, Stiles quickly unscrews the cap, skips the glass and begins to drink straight from the bottle.  
  


Ah, sweet, sweet satisfaction! Humming in delight, Stiles turns in place as he drinks and pauses mid-gulp. The sudden pause causes a dribble of milk to slip down his cheek. Stiles scrubs the back of his hand to prevent the liquid from going any further even as he stares at the sight before him.  
  


Derek’s sitting up in his bed, open book in his lap, head lolling over to one side as his chest rises and falls in a steady cadence. The werewolf is clearly asleep, as evidenced by the complete lack of movement when Stiles hesitantly whispers, “Derek? You awake?” Stiles places the milk bottle on the nearest flat surface, eyes focused on Derek. “Derek?” He tries again in a slightly louder voice.  
  


Despite the fact that he’s said that in almost his usual tone, and had crashed into an open cabinet on his way out of the kitchen area (which, what the  _hell_?! Had that stupid thing been open from the start? And how had he missed cracking his knee into it before?), Derek continues to sleep.  
  


Stiles makes his way towards the still figure, wary of the fact that Derek might wake up at any given moment. He’s anticipating it actually - that his loud heartbeat might jerk Derek out of his peaceful rest. But, he reasons with himself, if Derek hasn’t woken up after Stiles’ poor attempts to muffle his pained yelp, then maybe his heartbeat won’t wake up the werewolf up either.  
  


He’s not sure how he feels when his assumption turns out to be true. Standing by the bedside, Stiles leans in to see what Derek's been reading. The text and characters on the page aren’t familiar to him. Maybe if he… Stiles carefully, oh so  _very_ carefully, takes the book out of Derek’s slack hands.  
  


The werewolf doesn’t even twitch as Stiles checks the cover and spine, frowns at the blank leather cover before flipping the book open to the first page. ‘ _The Count of Monte Cristo?_ ' Stiles raises an eyebrow at the title before cracking the book open to a random page.   
  


It doesn’t take more than a few lines before Stiles is engrossed in the story, as enthralled as Albert as Haydee tells of the fall of Yanina. He forgets where he is, forgets that he’s standing next to Derek’s bed, where Derek himself is fast asleep, while Stiles holds his breath and wonders how the story will unfold.  
  


Just as Selim has been stabbed, Derek sighs. The soft sound makes Stiles start hard enough to drop the book. He flounders, trying to grab the book before it hits the ground with what is sure to be a resounding smack. It’s only sheer dumb luck that Stiles manages to grab it by the front cover before it hits the floor.  
  


Sighing in relief, Stiles gives Derek’s peaceful face a dirty glare. “You totally planned that didn’t you.” He grumbles under his breath, putting the book down on the table behind him. Derek’s foot begins to slide down, causing his slightly raised knee to flatten against the dark sheets. His body follows as he slides down from his reclining position.  
  


He can’t help but wince because that position looks like murder on the the neck. Stiles also cannot help but make a judgemental face at the fact that Derek’s sitting in bed with his boots on. Which,  _who_  does that? Stiles very casually ignores all the times he’s been guilty of the same crime but hey! He only does that when he’s super tired okay?   
  


"I wonder if werewolves can get a crick in their neck." Stiles mumbles, bending down to examine Derek’s neck with a wince. Padded headboard or not, that’s still gonna hurt when Derek wakes up. Maybe if he just…   
  


Holding his breath, Stiles gingerly pokes Derek in the face and tries to push his head into an upright position instead of almost pressed against his shoulder.  
  


The teenager considers it a miracle that Derek doesn’t wake up and then thinks that maybe the werewolf is messing with him when it doesn’t take more than a second for his head to loll over to the other side. “Are you  _kidding_  me?!” Stiles hisses, hand trembling as he fights back the urge to give Derek’s face several more pokes.   
  


Huh. Derek even half frowns in his sleep. That’s weird. Stiles is well aware that he’s pressing his luck when he press a finger between Derek’s eyebrows, trying to smooth the tiny lines there. They remain in place no matter how many times Stiles presses down on them or around them. “Forever a grouch.” Stiles snickers under his breath.  
  


On the other hand. Doesn’t it mean that Derek doesn’t relax even when he’s sleeping? That’s a depressing thought. Sighing, Stiles scratches his cheek and wonders if he ought to leave. But the thought of just leaving Derek in his awkward sleeping position is starting to create a phantom crick in his own neck.  
  


"If you wake up," Stiles warns Derek as he stands at the foot of the bed, "I’m never doing a nice thing for you ever again. I’m totally gonna make you pay me in Red Vines and doughnuts for a month. And this includes doing any weird post-midnight research. I'll never do it again unless you say please." Derek breathes out in agreement, turning over on his side as Stiles tugs on the werewolf’s legs.   
  


Ignoring the boots (Stiles lets 'em stay on. It’s not part of his daily good deed to take Derek Hale’s shoes off), Stiles moves several pillows off the bedsheet, gingerly tucks on behind Derek's head before he grabs a corner of the sheets. The material might be heavy but it feels nice and warm under his hands as he throws it over Derek’s sleeping body.   
  


It’s not the best solution but hey, if it ain’t broke and all. Stiles flips the blanket off Derek’s boots, figuring that it might help minimize the amount of dirt that might get on the sheets and gives himself a mental pat on the back for a deed well done. “That’ll do, Pig,” He grins down at Derek, who sighs and presses his cheek a little harder into his pillow and sleeps on. “That’ll do.”  
  


Now. To put the milk away and be on his merry way. Chuckling slightly at his own rhyme, Stiles ambles back into the kitchen area. It’s only when he’s stashed the milk back into place that he wonders why Derek hasn’t woken up despite the fact that Stiles has made enough noise to wake him up.   
  


Frowning, Stiles leans on the counter and watches Derek curl the dark sheets tighter around him before settling in again, nose smushed into his pillow. He knows just how sharp the werewolf’s reflexes can be, even when he’s resting. So why… ‘ _Maybe he knows it’s me_?’ Stiles wonders, teeth worrying the inside of his mouth as he wonders. He taps his foot against the cabinet in an off-key beat. ‘ _And what’s why he didn’t wake up_?’  
  


For a moment Stiles ponders on what this means and implies before shaking his head. ‘ _He’s probably just really tired._ ' Stiles reasons, telling himself to not think about how this means that at some level, Derek trusts him enough to let part of his guard down. ' _None of us’ve been sleeping these days. That’s probably it._ ’  
  


It’s not the best explanation in many ways but in the most important ways, it is. So Stiles holds it close, repeating it over and over again so that it drowns out the hopeful beating of his heart as he walks out of the loft.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://candypinkcocks.tumblr.com)  
> 


End file.
